Got Drunk Last Night
by DawnsJediWind
Summary: Frozen twoshot. After Kristoff and Anna have an argument, there's only one way Kristoff can drown his sorrows. R&R! I doubt you'll regret it! Kristoff/Anna
1. Chapter 1

**Got Drunk Last Night **

**Declaimer: I own nothing, everything belongs to Disney. **

**Rated: T for language mostly. **

**Summery: After Kristoff and Anna have an argument, he has to drown his sorrows someway. **

**Dedicated To: My sister, who sometimes get under my skin (not that I'm saying I don't deserved it), enjoy:D**

* * *

**I'm taking a bit of a break from my other _Frozen _FanFic, _Frozen Than Thawed,_**** so thought I'd try my hand at a twoshot. I heard a country song on the radio that really reminded me of Kristoff, so I decided I'd make a little story based off of it. Took me awhile to figure it all out, though, but I hope everyone enjoys the result. **

_** "..Might've been a song on the radio. **_

_** Might've been nothin', baby I don't know. **_

_** Might've been a girl who looked like you. **_

_** Might've been a fluke—might've been a full moon. **_

_** Might've been a little too tired to fight. **_

_** Might've been I got a little drunk last night…" **_

_**{DJWind}**_

1

Anna slammed the stable door shut, so hard that it made the whole building quiver. She raced across the courtyard, heels _click-clacking _over the cobble stones, and reached the safety of Arendelle Castle's front doors just as the tears willed up in her eyes and overflowed onto her cheeks. She shut the door and lend against it as a sob suddenly escaped her. She parsed her hands against her mouth to try to prevent any more from leaving her throat, and closed her eyes tightly against the tears that continued to come. Her heart was pounding with a mixture of anger and some other emotion Anna couldn't name, perhaps it was sadness or fear? She didn't know, only that she knew she would never be able to see him again.

"Anna?" Elsa's voice called down the spiral stair case. "Are you alright?"

Anna looked up as her sister gracefully descended down the stairs, a worried look on her pale face, her dark, blue gown falling gracefully away around her ankles as she descended the last step.

"I'm fine!" Anna suddenly snapped, then bolted for the stairs, mounting them two at a time. As soon as she reached the top, she ran own down the hall, and hurled herself into her room, slamming her door shut, declaring to everything that _she did NOT what to be disturbed_, but it was also an invention for Elsa to come up and try to talk to her. Anna waited a minute. Sure enough, soon after she heard Elsa coming nearer.

"Anna, please open the door," said Elsa, waiting patiencely outside her bedroom door. Something awful had happened, and she was resolved to deal with it without delay.

"No!" said Anna.

"Anna, please." They had been separated by a door before, and that was the last thing Elsa wanted to happen again.

Anna didn't replay. Elsa sighed, and lending against the door, said quietly, "At least tell me what happened? It will make you feel better."

"No," Anna answered, "Not this time."

"Anna, what happened?" Elsa asked concerned. "Did you and Kristoff have a fight?" _Again,_ Elsa quietly thought. This was defiantly not the first time her little sister had locked herself away after an argument.

"Yes…" Elsa detected the anger was leaving Anna from her soft, miserable voice.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" Elsa gently asked.

"No."

Elsa sighed, "Well, I'm here if you do. I'll be up in my study." She backed away from the door, and sighed again. Anna was stubborn sometimes, and Elsa hated forcing to say something, or do something, against her well, even if it would benefit her. Elsa shook her head sadly, then descended back down the stairs to her study below. Maybe she could spare a few minutes before going to her study to work on the every growing pile of papers she always seemed to be reading and signing, and see if she could find Kristoff. Maybe if she talked with him, she could figure out what really went on between those two.

Elsa sighed, Anna and Kristoff were a hopeless case. Why did she always have to be the referee between them? Or the counselor to sort out their problems? _I guess it's sisterly duties,_ Elsa thought as she walked through the courtyard towards the Royal Stables where Sven was housed, and sometimes Kristoff slept. He did have a room in the Castle; a very large, spacious room with a queen-size bed and large fire, but some habits die hard, and he would always prefer sleeping with Sven on hay in the stables if he could get away with it.

Elsa paused before the stable doors, lifted her hand, and thought about knocking, then realized that _she_ was the Queen of Arendelle, so she could really get away without announcing herself. She turned the handle, and stepped in over the threshold into the dim, musty atmosphere of the stables. The sight that met her, startled her slightly, but she guessed she should've expected something like this to happening.

* * *

Kristoff was mad, raving _mad._ He didn't get anger very often, it wasn't in his genes, when he did, it was usually at something particular, like injustice or insulting, but usually not at _someone._ This time was different, however. Anna first had the audacity to tell him he was irresponsible, then told him she was better than him. He'd tired to be patience, but the last bit had gotten under his skin a little too much until he just had to retort about her foolishness and unladylike behavior. The truth hurts, but it stings more when it's told in anger and not in love. He had then gone on to voice all her other flaws; how she was always dependent on other people to get her out of a mess, or the fact that she like to bug people while they were trying to work, or the fact that she could be sometimes a little royal prat. Anna had begun to brake down and cry at this point. Kristoff had suddenly stopped, realizing a little too late what he'd done, and tried to apologize. But she was gone, she had stormed out of the stables, slamming the door right in his face, and he didn't have the guts to go after her. He now hated himself, hated every fiber of his being for what he'd down. So he was angry, _mad_ at himself, and the only way Kristoff could think of venting out all that anger and frustration was to break something. He had garbed a apply from the floor, and thrown it at the far wall, it landed with a juicy _splat_ and slid down the wall boards. Kristoff had then taken up a whip, and broken it across his knee. He tossed aside the shards, and reached for something else to break. Only instead, he reached for Sven's horns as the reindeer was eating up the apply remains, and yanked them towards him. The reindeer didn't at all appreciate this, and proclaimed this by promptly stepping on Kristoff feet. Kristoff yelped and crashed into the far wall where the hoes and shovels to clean the stables just happen to be hanging. As his rear-end was impaled by the spicks, he yelled and screeched like never before. Kristoff flung himself onto the hay-covered floor, rubbing rigorously at his butt as tears of pain and anger sprung into his eyes. For the first time in years—since the day they he'd come to expect that he's parents weren't coming back—Kristoff begun to cry.

* * *

Elsa watched all of this play out, and see Kristoff so desperate and in pain made her heart winch. She rushed to his side to see if she could comfort him in some way. Seeing someone besides himself and Sven, Kristoff suddenly jerked away from Elsa's light touch, and jumped up, turned on her fiercely.

"It's just me!" Elsa defended herself, "Elsa, Kristoff."  
Suddenly he saw who she really was, and the fight lift him. Kristoff collapsed to the ground, and buried his face in his heads.

Elsa sat down next to him, and put an arm around him. He was clearly distressed, not only by his butt being impaled, by things he'd said to Anna and the knowledge that he might've ruined their whole relationship in a sling swap.

"What a dumb bastard I am!" Kristoff quietly exclaimed to himself, choking back his tears and rubbing at his eyes. Suddenly he snapped, and sprang to his feet, marched out of the stables, Elsa quickly following.

"Where are you going?" she asked, hastening on the threshold, watching Kristoff continue striding towards the Castle Gates.

"To get a drink!" he said gruffly over his shoulder, and disappeared down the bridge. Kristoff knew he would hate himself even more if sat in self-pity and loathing, turning over in his mind what should've, could've been if he'd only kept his mouth shut. Not that a stiff drink would improve that, most likely it would increase his misery, but he didn't need to know that now.

* * *

_The Shackled Stage _was _thee _place to get any half-decent drinks at a cheap price. It also happened to be were most of the ice harvesters of Arendelle spent their free days. Kristoff didn't go into drinking (or smoking cigars) very often. He'd been raised by the Trolls, mind you, and they didn't go into since things—well expect for a certain, pointy tipped weed and a red, slim coated mushroom. However, if he was having a particular bad day at harvest, or if people were getting on his nerves more than usual, he would stop by _The Stage _and get a beer or two while sharing his sorrows with his fellowmen. It was nice to talk about ice; you couldn't be a harvester if you didn't absolutely love it and couldn't bare the pain of cutting, stacking, and selling it. Kristoff didn't make friends of his fellowmen—most of whom where well advanced in their years, and whose wisdom was sometimes "cracked"—but it was still nice to talk about a common love affair with ice and snow.

Kristoff strode into _The Stage_. It was mid-afternoon, and there was few customers, thus the bar owner was napping in a warm spot by the door. Kristoff almost stumbled over him, but quickly gathered his wits, and adventured another accident. He slid onto a barstool at the counter, and reached for a bottle of beer behind it. He didn't even bother getting himself a glass. He wasn't a alcoholic drinking from the bottle, he just didn't care anymore. He tipped off the lid, and drunk half of the bottle in one, long, deep gulp, then set it back and sighed. Thus begun his drinking vigil.

* * *

Elsa lifted the Royal Stables, and crossed the courtyard, reentered the Castle. She went to her study and begun to work. Slowly the pile of stacked papers decreased, but the cost was a pounded headache and strained, aching eyes. She rubbed at them, and put down the paper she was holding, sighed for the millionth time that day. Her mind was far from work, but infect on the disturbing situation of Anna and Kristoff's argument. Clearly something had happened that needed to fix before too much time when by. Elsa didn't know what had happened—she would stifle her curiosity for now—but whatever it was it wasn't at all good. Words had been said in anger that neither really had meant, but what's done is done, what's passed is passed. All that needed to happen was for _both_ of them to apologize. But _how?_ No doubly neither of them wanted to see the other every again, after what happened. Well, that's why Elsa was here, she could _force _the apologize out of those two. Not that she wanted to, but by the way things looked at the moment, she just might have too.

"What can't they get along?" Elsa wondered aloud. She shook her head as only one explanation came to her, "Love."

* * *

Though he rarely drank, Kristoff knew it wasn't very wise to drink alcohol on an empty stomach. With this in mind, he went behind the counter and fixed himself a snack. The sun was creeping downwards behind the surrounding mountains, soon it would be dark, and the bar would be filled with travelers, locals, and ice harvesters alike in a matter of an hour. Kristoff finished his snack, got himself beer number two, then drifted to a dark corner by the fireplace. He sat down in a stool, and drunk slowly, musingly, letting his thoughts racing randomly before him, or just looking, not feeling or think at all.

At lest when the sun disappeared intterly behind the mountains, and the twilight between day and night came flooding over the fjord and Arendelle Castle, the bar owner woke up and scurried to tend the counter as his first customers of the night arrived. They were old, wizened fishermen and a fat "soiled dove" looking for company. Luckily neither saw Kristoff in his corner by the fireplace, and he was quite relieved when the dove left the bar soon after she'd arrived.

An hour passed, two beers down, and the bar gradually became more and more crowded. Some were just passing through to garb a drink and a snack before heading home up the mountain or into town. A few others were here to get some board and stay the night. But some where like Kristoff—they'd had terrible days and were just here to drink it off. A Dame who was staying started playing a small piano in on of the bars shady corners. A few mid-aged loggers brought cards and begun to gamble and argue amongst themselves. An old man had brought a chess set, and was play against himself off to the side.

Finally, after realizing that his bottle was empty and had been for quite some time, Kristoff rose and strode through the crowd to the counter. He found himself a set, and looked around, a slight dozed look in his eyes as if he didn't know what to do yet, or what to say.

"Ye want somethin'?" The bar tender asked.

Kristoff raised his head and looked up at him unsure of what he was saying for several seconds, then nodded and handed him the empty beer bottle, "Do you have something stiffer than this?"

"A whiskey perhaps?" asked the bar tender taking the bottle and tossing it aside.

"No…" Kristoff thought a moment, "How about an extra strong Moose?"

"Moose Milk it is then."

Kristoff watched, a bit festinated, as the bar tender daftly, though certainly, prepared several drinks and meals almost at the same time. Before he knew it, the bar tender had placed Kristoff's ordered concoction of alcohol mixed with iced cream and super. Despite it's creamy appearance, it was strong and sour, as it had three types of liquor in it. It could knock a lesser man out cold, but it would take more than one to do that to Kristoff. He took it, raised it to toast his miser, then guzzled down half of it in one go. Several men on either side of him, paused in their eating and drinking to gaze at him in utter awe. One grinned.

"A gel gettin' on yer nerves," A man asked knowingly.

"Yup," Kristoff wasn't in the mood to conversant.

"I understand," said the man. "But what happened to ye to get ye drinkin' like that?" he pointed to the Moose Milk in Kristoff's hand.

"An argument."

"Ahh!" The man was silent for a minute or two, then asked eagerly, "What happened?"

Kristoff shook his head, the last thing he wanted to do was to bring up the horrid memory of what had happened early, but before he could think about stopping himself, he blurted out, "She was first accusing me of something I know I didn't do, then begun listing all of my faults at me. _Soo_, I had to retort and list all of _her _faults before _her_. Ohh, I feel horrible!" Kristoff buried his head in hands, and sobbed miserable, then garbed his glass, drained the rest of the drink down.

"Here, lad, have some more," another older man pushed a glass of Guinness towards him.

Kristoff garbed the glass without question, and drained it too. By now there was a slight buzz in his head, it was strangely pleasant, but also annoying. He felt wonderfully warm all over, and he found that he liked the sensation. He also felt very loose, not only physically, but mentally. Kristoff felt like he could do absolutely anything, and wouldn't be ashamed. The memory of him and Anna's argument was getting pushed farther and farther back in his mind.

Kristoff sat up from his slumped position, and grinned happily. "Man, I feel great!" he announced.

"Good, good," said a old man, and slapped him on the back, "Now, how did you feel about takin' a chance and winin' some mullah?"

Kristoff didn't hastate, "Sure!" He leaped off his stool and followed the man towards a shady corner of the bar where his companions were preparing for another round of cards and drinks.

* * *

It was only when Elsa had sat down to dinner that evening, and was just about to begin eating, that she heard the soft footfalls, and saw Anna round the corner to the dinner room with slow, sad steps. Even though her head was bowed and her unbraided, strawberry-blonde hair fell across her face, Elsa could tell that she'd been crying. She didn't move, and said nothing as Anna went around the table and sat down in her usual place by Elsa left hand. They begun to eat in a companionable thought strained silence. At length, feeling so uneasy by the silence and the way events had turned, Elsa felt like she needed to say something, anything.

"I'm sorry for what happened," said Elsa quietly.

After a second, Anna just as quietly answered, "It wasn't your fault."

"I know, but I'm still sorry. You didn't deserve it."

"No, you're wrong, I did," Anna's voice cracked on the edges, and she dabbed under her eyes with the back of her sleeve. "What he said about me was right. I am a ungrateful prat."

Elsa garbed her hand and squeezed hard, "Don't you _ever_ say that about yourself, Anna! You have some flaws, and have made some terrible choices, but so have I, and I bit Kristoff has too. No one is perfect, however hard some try to be, and I think that's good. Because, if we're all perfect life would be too boring to live. Our imperfections are what make us unequal and life interesting."

"B-but," Anna stammered, "sometimes I feel like a dumb six-year-old. I'm so clumsy and rash, not like you—who I've always thought was the 'perfect, graceful one.'"

Elsa sat back, looking at her little sister in both amazement and horror, "Oh, Anna! I'm not perfect! Look what I did to my powers? I hide them when I shouldn't had, and I froze Arendelle completely over!"

Anna giggled, "Okay, so maybe I'm wrong."

Elsa smiled, "You know, Anna, I've always envied your freedom and practicality."

"You have?"

Elsa nodded, "Yes. You're able to do things I'll never be able to. Go off into the wild with Kristoff for one thing, do anything in the world you want, I'll never have that freedom. But you're also pretty good at some things too, that sometimes I just can't help but be a little jealous."

"And I thought I was the jealous one!"

"Apparently not." Elsa sighed, "But that's not point: You're special, I'm special, and Kristoff's special—everyone is actually, one way or another. Sometimes it's good to come face-to-face with your flaws—knowing what your weaknesses are came help you—but there's always a time and place for it. You and Kristoff's argument earlier was definitely not the time or place you two to point out your imperfections."

Anna hung her head, "I know. I'm sorry."

"What's said is done, but I just want to make sure that it didn't affection you and Kristoff's relationship. You've gone through a lot together, and gone a long why behind simple friendship into something more. I just want to make sure this argument hasn't ruined all that. Believe it or not, it may better your understanding of each other."

Anna nodded, and lifted her head, "I should apologize to him, shouldn't I?"

"That's a start," said Elsa.

Anna stood up from the table, finally now determined to make amends for her horrid behavior earlier that day, "Do you know where I could find him?"

Elsa frowned, trying to remember, then said, "The last thing he said was that he needed a drink. You may have to look around town at all the pubs and bars to find him."

Anna's eyes widened, "Kristoff hardly ever drinks. I must've hurt him horribly!"

"I think so," said Elsa, "At least he looked pretty hurt the last time I saw him. I suggested you hurry and see if you can find before something worse happens to him."

But Anna was already out the door, sprinting across the courtyard and calling for Olaf to follow. She had the feeling finding Kristoff was going to take more than one person, and Olaf was reasonably reliable. The snowman came bounding after her as she raced across the bridge to the town, his body parts flying every which way. He caught up with her as Anna slowed into town, and asked, "You needed something, Anna?"

She nodded, "I need you to help me find Kristoff. He went out for a drink. I want you to look for him at every pub and bar you come across, okay, Olaf?"

"Righty-o," the eager snowman trotted quickly away towards the town's center and market, as Anna went in the opposite diction. The sun was gone, as was the twilight, and night had finally fallen. There was few people out on the streets, those that were, were hurrying away to their homes and warm dinner. A man on stilts let the lanterns that lined the streets as Anna passed with bowed head so that he wouldn't recognize her in the soft, organy firelight. She stopped at the market square, and peered into every shop and pub, many of which were still opened, or about to close. Just as she was about to enter one that she thought Kristoff might be at, she heard Olaf's happy voice calling her. Anna grimaced, she didn't really want people to know that she was out—without guards—in the town after dark.

"Anna?!" Olaf called again, "Is this want you're looking for?!" He pointed to bar bustling with noise and active and lights.

Anna hurried over, and peered through the window into the brightly let, smoky atmosphere of the place. There, in the certain of the room was Kristoff dancing with a very tall, slender young blonde. Wild fiddle music was playing and they were jigging and dancing away. Kristoff was clearly drunk. His hair was horrible disheveled and standing up on edge. His face was flushed and red from the booze that circulated his veins, and he was stumbling all over the poor girl's feet more than dancing. Anna couldn't believe her eyes! She had never in her life with him seen him like this. Anna covered her mouth with a hand either in horror at what she was seeing or to prevent herself from bursting into laughter. She would make sure he would never live this down! Well…after she apologized for their argument.

Olaf chuckled helplessly beside her. "Oh, dear. P-poor Kristoff!" He burst into another fit of laughter as Anna tried to compose herself and prepare to face Kristoff.

"Alright," she turned to the giggling snowman, "Let's do this, Olaf!" And Anna opened the door to the bar and marched determinedly in, like she was going to battle than going to retrieve a drunk boyfriend.

Kristoff had been having a very fun time. He felt loose and gutty, and wonderfully warm and drowsy all over. He grinned and laughed more, not really caring about the fact that he'd lost a good bit of his money in gambling and drinks. He had really lost it, and he didn't even care. But when he heard a vigil familiar voice snap out his name, Kristoff suddenly went cold and froze. He stood unmoving for a moment before stumbling to face the person that voice belonged to. Through his blurry vision could her make her familiar face out. Surprising—what he'd been expected and fearing—she didn't look angry, but her lips were pursed and curling in such a way that she was trying hard not to laugh.

"Ah yeah?" Kristoff slurred. "Ye called?"

"You look terrible." Anna observed, covering her mouth again to keep the laughs in.

"Yeah, dah. 'tiss what's happens when ye brock my heart, I gone get droonck." Kristoff tried to step forward to Anna, but miscalculated the distances, stumbled, and fell flat onto his sore behind just where he'd been impaled. He garbed his butt, and groaned, "Ohhee, my ass hurts!"

Anna knelt, and rolled Kristoff over, he went limp under her, and found the gapping hole where he'd been impaled in his behind. Without really think it through, she garbed a nearby beer bottle and poured it all over the injure. Kristoff yelled and jumped faster than you could say, "Cat!". He pranced around on tip-toes, rubbing his butt fiercely to ease the sting of the alcohol. He was somber alright, _very _somber. Then, still dancing about the place as its others inhabitants died of laughter, he saw Anna clear as day with the empty bottle of beer in her hand, rolling and laughing hopelessly on the floor. It took only one glaze, then Kristoff off was out of there in a flash and sprinting off in the direction of the Castle Bridge. He had never felt more somber or foolish in his whole life, but he guessed that after what happened earlier, he deserved it all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part 2: The Hangover. **

**Sorry for the delay, I hit writer's block on this second part, but here it is at last. **

**EnJoy:) **

**{DJWind}**

2

The first thing Kristoff noticed was the pricing white light that seemed to blind him even with his eyes closed. Next, it was the throbbing migraine that seemed to pulse along with every bent of his heart. His stomached flip-flapped against his inners, and he had the acute feeling that he would have to give up of its contents eventually. He rolled onto his side, groaning as he felt his stomach heaving slightly to one side. He vowed then and there that he would never again touch anything alcoholic. Of course he was doing this in the misery of his hangover, and didn't really mean it because when your hands are solid blocks of ice after contently dipping them into below freezing water, there's only one way to warm them.

Kristoff throw a arm over his eyes, and tried to slip back into unconsciousness. Unsuccessfully, as his mind was already more than half way awake, and his body was ready to get up even in the aftermath of last night. He sighed, grimace as the otherwise soft nose hit his ears like a wave of drums. He gulped, swallowing back the bail rising in his throat, and lay motionless, afraid that if he moved he would loose everything.

_Kill me,_ Kristoff silently prayed, _Kill me now, for Ice's stake. _

But no one was there in his room (half of him was thankful for that), and no one could read minds, at least he hoped they couldn't.

Twenty minutes passed, he'd made it almost a half-an-hour without having to heave up the contents of last night. His dulled mind begun to stir awake and in activity, and the memories of yesterday and last night came flooding suddenly back to him. He almost became sick then, but was able to gather himself together and hold everything back a little longer.

"Oh no, oh no, no!" Kristoff cursed himself, "_Why_? Why do I have to such a damn fool?!"  
He remembered all too clearly he and Anna's argument, and the self-infected wound he'd given himself on the end of a hoe, then, thinking of the only to ease his pain of both body and heart, all that drinking he'd down. He turned even more green at the memory of it.

"Well then," he said to himself, "I guess I deserve this hangover."

"Oh, yes you do!" Anna had quietly opened the door, slipped into his room, then slammed it back shut loud _thud_.

Kristoff groaned and covered his mouth with a hand, closing his eyes tightly against his aching head. Anna raced across the room, and bounced onto his bed with a loud squeal. It was the last straw. Kristoff's stomach heaved upwards, he bolted upright, sprang to his feet, and raced to the bathroom, lurching foreword to the chamber pot, and vomited. A laps came in the regurgitation, and he took a deep breath before keeling over the side of the pot again. At last he was done, and fell back against the wall feeling slightly better than before, his stomach wasn't heaving like a ocean wave, and the pain in his head had lessened a bit. He wiped a sleeve across his forehead, realizing that he'd broken out in a cold sweat in his sickness, and sighed.

"I'm so sorry," Anna was at the doorpost to the bathroom, a tall glass of water in her hand. She knelt and handed it to him. He took it without a word, without even eye contact, and drank it bit of it slowly, for fear his sensitive stomach would rebel again. Anna folded her legs under her, and sat down next to him, put an arm around him and laid her head on his shoulders. For a moment Kristoff felt a lot better—happy even—at her warm, comforting touch, then his mind remembered what'd happened to put him in his present miserable state to begin with. He let out something between a sob and groan, and closed his eyes, the memory of their argument paining him more than any hangover.

"I'm so, so, so sorry," he whispered, leaning forward and burying his heavy head in his hands. "I didn't mean—any of it…Anna, can you forgive me?"

Anna nodded, though Kristoff couldn't see it, and rubbed his back in comforting circles, "Yes. I'm sorry too, for what I said. I don't know what came over me to act so stupid."

Kristoff lifted his head, and looked fully at her for the first time since she'd joined him on the bathroom floor. "W-we're still friends then?"

Anna nodded, and brushed Kristoff's long bangs from his eyes, "Yeah, I guess so…" Her hands still a litter longer than necessary on his cheek as she peered into his deep, hazel-brown eyes. Then, without really knowing what she was doing, Anna leaned forward, closed her own eyes, and brushed her lips against his in a tender kiss.

After his alcohol soaked mind realized that she was kissing him, Kristoff closed his eyes, and opened his lips to her intriguing invitation, the pain of his hangover washing away in that kiss. This was a mile stone for them both, for it was the first time they'd ever really _kissed_. Not a peck on the cheek, or a short goodnight kiss. This was a fully fledged France kiss that could lasted an upmost of two minutes without drawing away for air.

Kristoff's arms twined around Anna's slender waist and held her in place as he deepened the kiss, fighting for entrance to her mouth. Anna, in turn, garbed either side of his face in her hands, and pulled him nearer. But suddenly the migraine returned to him like being splash over the head with cold water, and Kristoff moaned, freeing himself from the kiss and buried his head in Anna's shoulder as it was suddenly too heavy to carry. Anna stroked Kristoff's disheveled, dirty hair, and whispered, "I'll help you get back to bed."

Kristoff stumbled to his feet, swaying slightly as his balance of gravity was off by quite a bit, and flung an arm around Anna. Because she was a head shorter than he, and was so small, she didn't help much, but he didn't care, it was just nice to know that she was there and not angry at him. Anna helped him into the big bed, and laid the fluffy blankets over him as Kristoff closed his eyes. He sighed contented. Leaning over the him, Anna kissed his cheek, and said, "I'll be back." Then she was gone, and Kristoff slipped back to sleep.

"How is he?" Elsa asked, looking up from a paper she was reading at the breakfast table.

"Sick, but otherwise fine," Anna slid into her seat and dove heartily right into her oatmeal mush referred to as "gruel" for good reason.

"That's…good…"Elsa's said absentmindedly.

Anna rolled her eyes, then smirked, a idea to get her older sister attention back coming to her, "We _kissed_."

Elsa looked over the brim of the paper, if she'd had glasses, she would've looked very grandmotherly, "Anna, there are some things I just don't need to know, and that's one of them. I'm very busy at the moment, and I don't really care what you and Kristoff do unless it evolves sharing the same bed."

Anna shrugged, a little disappointed, "Okay, it's just you were _soo_ interested in our relationship yesterday, I thought you would want to know."

"Know what, exactly?" Elsa let her paper go, and it circled back in itself with a loud, pronounced _snap. _

"That, we're back together," Anna said in the "_dah_" voice.

Only then did Elsa smile, "Good, I'm glad for you. Now, I can I go back to my duties?"

"I suppose," and Anna sighed exasperated at her sister. Something she just couldn't get her and her rapidly changing moods. It's widely known that men don't understand women, it's not so widely known that some people of the same gender don't understand each other sometimes too.

Knowing that she would only be annoying to Elsa, Anna finished her breakfast quickly, and retreated out of the dinning room springily. She went in search of the kitchens, and was lost twice and had to retrace her steps before she begun to realizing how close the kitchens had to be to the dinning room, and eventually found them. There she found the head cook already preparing a soup for the main meal of the day, and requested some to take to Kristoff. The cook willingly gave her some, and Anna carefully and quickly went back through the maze of Castle halls and chambers (half of which they never used), up the stairs to Kristoff's room. When she entered, she found Kristoff asleep, and hastened a moment wondering if she should let him be and sleep, or not. But she didn't dwell on it too long, and gently shook him awake. Kristoff opened one eye, and seeing Anna hovering over him, opened his other and rolled fully onto his back.

"Some soap for you," said Anna. She sat down on the edge of his bed, and spooned the soap to Kristoff like she would to a baby. He grinned up to her, the smile lighting up his green-ashy face, and his eyes sparkled with love as Anna continued to feed him.

After a while in which the soup was half-way gone, Anna asked, "How's your head."

"Better," said Kristoff. "But I better sleep the rest of it off."

Anna dabbed at his lips with her skirt since she had forgotten the vital importance of a napkin on her way up with the soup. Kristoff rolled his eyes, the first indication that his humor and sarcasm was returning to him, and said, "You know, you don't have to feed me like a baby, Anna."

Anna rolled her eyes in turn, and said in her most ladylike voice, "Oh, yes, I do, for you are a baby."

Kristoff choked on his food, and glared at her, "No I'm not!"

Anna nodded, and begun "Yes, you are…" But that was as far as she got, for Kristoff begun to tickle her side, under her chin, and eventually to her feet. He never got that far, for Anna banged the empty bowl of soup over his head. What little was lifted of the soup sipped into his hair and down his face. He glared un-amused at Anna while she practically fell to the floor in hopeless giggles and bursts of hiccupping laughter.

"Okay, that's it!" Kristoff threw down the bowl, flung back the blankets, and fell on top of Anna, tickling her senseless. They laughed and rolled together on the floor, each trying to find a very ticklish spot so that the other would submit. For Kristoff, it was under his chin, and Anna tickled him so badly, he laughed so hard he started to cry, and his stomach ached. But he got his revenge by tickling Anna's sensitive feet. She kicked at him when he did this, so he had to resort to another ticklish spot on her. At last, exhausted by laughing their vocal cords off, they collapsed on the floor, recovering from their tickling.

"Feel better?" Anna asked, snuggling closer to Kristoff.

Kristoff smiled and chuckled at the memory of their fun, "Yup. You?"

"Good," Anna's whole face let up with a sunny smile, then it just as quickly faded away as she somberly said, "I still can't believe we had a horrible fight yesterday, though."

"Yeah." Kristoff had to agree, "But I think fighting's good for us sometimes. We can understand each other better through our differences."

Anna nodded, "Elsa said the sometime similar last night. But promise me one thing, Kristoff." Anna rose on her elbow to look him squarely in the eye, "Never get drunk again."

Kristoff grimaced at the reminder, but said as honestly as he could, "For now. But, Anna, I can't guarantee anything for certain, your sometimes are a bit of a prat."

And Anna swatted him hard on the arm.

* * *

Eight mouths later saw Kristoff settling once more on a bar stool at _The Shackled Stag._ He looked miserably down at his Moose Milk, sighed, and drank the remainder of the concoction.

"Hello! Back again, ay?" a old ice harvester slid in next to Kristoff.

Kristoff nodded, and said gruffly, "Yeah."

"What's making you drink like that this time?" asked the old harvester, pointing to the now empty glass in Kristoff's hand.

"Women," was Kristoff's only reply.

In truth it was Anna _again. _ They had had another pointless argument that morning, and after a brutal day of chopping, stacking, and haling ice, Kristoff thought a little drink or two would do him good. He wasn't an alcoholic, but sometimes a mans got to do what a mans got to do, and besides, he was going to need this drink if he was going to survive the next few remaining mouths of Anna's pregnancy without losing it.

Kristoff garbed another bottle from the counter, popped the seal, and drank a good bit of its contents. He smiled grimly, and braced himself for the painful hangover that would greet him the next morning. But there would also be Anna, and he knew he would really become drink if he every lost her.


End file.
